


A Friend Should Bear His Friend's Infirmities

by planet_plantagenet



Category: Julius Caesar - Shakespeare
Genre: Conversations, Fights, Friendship/Love, Love Confessions, M/M, Present Tense, Sad with a Happy Ending, cassius is a sad gay mess, kind of a sequel to my portia fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-08
Updated: 2017-07-08
Packaged: 2018-11-29 11:19:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11439765
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/planet_plantagenet/pseuds/planet_plantagenet
Summary: A couple days after the fight in the tent, Cassius and Brutus have a conversation about it.





	A Friend Should Bear His Friend's Infirmities

**Author's Note:**

> inspired by a short thing my friend Marley wrote for me:  
> https://maluoliowithin.tumblr.com/post/162026791476/1-for-brutus-and-cassius

It’s amazing, I remark, just how quickly Brutus can put himself back together after he’s been torn apart. It’s been two days since the fight in his tent. He hasn’t mentioned it once. True to his word, he hasn’t brought up Portia or her suicide, either. Sometimes I feel like I can see a kind of sadness in his eyes, but then he blinks, and it’s just calm formality once again.

Maybe he’s suffering on the inside. I know how that feels.

Brutus comes over to my tent in the evening. Official business, he explains. And he does indeed stick to official business—the conversation is almost painfully formal. Battle logistics. Statistics on Mark Antony’s powers. I play along. It’s a distraction from the emotions swirling around in my head.

Then suddenly Brutus pauses, and for the first time that night, he really  _ looks _ at me.

“Cassius, are you okay?”

He  _ noticed _ . I’m more surprised than perhaps I should be. But then again, my decaying mental state is probably obvious by now. I’ve spent many a night holding back tears. My anxiety has doubled over the past few days, and I jump at every noise, move a little too quickly, fidget with the hems of my clothing. That argument in the tent completely shattered me, and I can’t quite seem to pick up every broken piece.

“Fine,” I respond, and force a smile, which probably looks more like a grimace.

Brutus eyes me for a long while, then suddenly turns, makes towards the door. He’s said what he needs to say, and he doesn’t want to overstay his visit.

“Brutus!”

The sound bursts from my lips. He stops. A second passes where I don’t dare to breathe. Why did I call him back? Every conversation brings me closer to another breakdown.

But maybe I’m willing to risk that, just for the sake of his company.

“Please don’t leave,” I finally continue.

“Cassius—?”

“Stay a little while longer.” I try to hide the part of my voice that makes it sound like I'm pleading. “We have… a lot to talk about.”

As soon as the words come out of my mouth, I regret them. Do I need to talk with Brutus? Yes. Do I want to? Absolutely not.

Brutus quirks an eyebrow. “I thought we were at the end of the conversation.”

“Yes—well—we need to discuss… other things.”

A blank stare. “About Antony?”

Does Brutus really not know? Can’t he tell that what I need to say doesn’t have anything to do with the upcoming battle? He noticed  _ something _ was wrong… but then again, I don’t think he has enough emotional awareness to tell exactly what’s wrong. I want to scream.

“No,” I reply.

“Can it wait until morning?”

“I’d rather it didn’t.”

Brutus walks back towards me, sitting in one of the chairs. I don’t move, until he motions me to sit as well—at which point I tentatively perch on the edge of the couch across from him.

“I suppose it’s a good idea to take a break from all this talk of battle,” Brutus says in a much too nonchalant voice. “What’s on your mind, my friend?”

Well, I guess it’s time to be candid.

“Remember that fight we had in your tent the other night?”

Brutus’ countenance and posture shifts. He does remember. He’s been trying not to remember.

“Yes,” he responds slowly.

“I just wanted you to know… you really hurt me.”

He leans forward, concerned. “Did I?”

“Yeah.”

“I… I’m sorry, Cassius.” He exhales. “I, uh, didn’t know you were still upset about that.”

How could he not have guessed?? But I just nod.

“Look,” Brutus continues, “we both did some things that perhaps we shouldn’t have.”

“Yes.”

“And I was already feeling quite… grieved.”

_ Portia _ . I know exactly what he means, and I know he doesn’t want to say it. I nod again.

“But… Cassius.” He stares me in the face with a kind of intensity that makes me uncomfortable. “I know you’re not going to like this, but I have to be honest with you. You have to stop jumping to conclusions. Just because I dislike your actions doesn’t mean I dislike you as a person. And you need to understand that.”

I stiffen, look at my shoes. I know that. I know it makes no sense to jump to conclusions like I did. But—

“Tell that to my anxiety,” I mutter, and it’s only when I look up and notice Brutus staring at me that I realize he heard that.

“What do you—?”

“You don’t understand.” I stand abruptly. Brutus does too, looking perplexed and slightly unnerved.

“Maybe I would understand if you actually explained instead of skirting around the subject.”

The words, delivered so calmly and matter-of-factly, feel like a kick in the shins.

“You don’t know how much I worry about my relationship with you,” I whisper.

Brutus’ eyes widen; he takes a step towards me. “Cassius—I’m one of your best friends—there’s no reason for you to doubt that—”

“I know!” I yell back. My eyes sting with tears that I’ve held back for days. “There’s no reason for me to feel so insecure! Or to rather die than be disliked by you! Or to make such a big deal of every little thing that inconveniences me! That’s just how mental illness works, okay?”

“I—” Brutus shakes his head. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry that you’re going through that. I just want you to know that our relationship is just as important to me as it is to you—”

“Is it really?”

“What?”

I’m in too deep. I can feel myself shaking. “You still don’t understand, Brutus—”

“Then make me understand!” he cries back.

“I didn’t ask to be so fucking in love with you!”

He freezes. Everything goes still for a second. I’m breathing hard; my heart is beating much too fast.

“And yet you clearly don’t love me back,” I finish, voice barely audible.

“Cassius—”

“Don’t.”

“Cassius, I consider you my best friend—”

I bury my face in my hands. “That’s not what I’m talking about, and you know it.”

“I—”

“Do you know how much of a mess I’ve been for the last few nights? I’ve felt this way for years, and you’ve never noticed. Not once. You’re just so blissfully oblivious, while I agonize over every single thing I do when you’re around.”

Brutus doesn’t say anything. I don’t think he can think of anything to say.

“Have you never seen me watching you out of the corner of my eye? Smiling when I talk to you? Finding excuses to brush my hands against yours?”

The seconds pass.

“Please say something. Anything.”

Then Brutus smiles awkwardly. “I… have noticed. I guess I just dismissed all the signs before. But it does make sense.”

What a methodical answer.

“And….” Do I dare ask? “I don’t suppose you feel the same way about me…?”

His face falls. “I… I don’t know, Cassius—”

“You really don’t know? Or you just don’t want to let me down by saying no?”

“Look, Cassius—” Brutus puts a hand on my shoulder, forcing me to look at him. “Whatever I feel about you romantically, I need you to understand that I legitimately care about you, and I always will. Even if we get into fights. Even if I say things I regret. Okay?”

I take a deep, shuddering breath, and nod slowly.

He continues. “Thank you for being so honest with me. I can’t give you an answer to your question right now, but—”

“Why not?”

Blink. “What?”

“Wouldn’t you be able to tell whether you were in love with me or not?”

“Not necessarily. Emotions are… complicated.”

I sigh. “Fair enough.” I don’t tell him that I don’t want to wait. But it seems I must be patient, and endure my chaotic emotions for a little while longer.

Brutus studies me for a long while. “Was there anything else?”

I want to ask if I can kiss him. But I’m not feeling brave enough right now; all my courage has drained out of me. So I shake my head, and pull him into a tight hug, resting my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arms around me as well. He can probably feel my rapidly beating heart.

“Thank you for being such a good friend,” I tell him softly, and I really mean it.


End file.
